Dancer in the Rain
by Red River
Summary: Oneshot. In all of Wu, no one dances as well as Da Qiao. But after all these years, there is still no one who knows whom she is dancing for. Yuri, SSX x DQ.


A/N: Oneshot and songfic. My first time writing yuri… I don't really support this pairing, but the idea just came to me. The girls may be a little out of character. The song is "Dancer in the Rain" by Rainy Taylor.

Pairing: Sun Shang Xiang x Da Qiao

Warnings: None.

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**Dancer in the Rain**

_Emerald eyes caught me by surprise_

_As she was dancing in the rain, _

_Her own little hurricane_

_Twirling and jumping about_

In the great span of the Wu capital, among the occupants of every silk-lined bower in the triumphant city, there is no one who dances as Da Qiao does. No matter how skilled, all women fall away in comparison to her, unable to equal the pure vision she becomes with twin fans wrapped between her nimble fingers.

The men of Wu have more than once debated what aspect of the performance makes her dance so irresistible. Some will say that it is simply her remarkable beauty, which shines all the more clearly when she glitters in the glow of celebratory lanterns. Some will say it is the fluidity that her body achieves, twisting and writhing as though the air were water, as though she were a piece of silk swaying in the summer breeze. The wiser ones may tell you it is something about her expression—something in her brilliant eyes, in the smile like a sickle moon curving across her lips.

They believe she smiles because she loves to dance. Perhaps they are not so wise, after all.

_She looks and sees me, smiles at me_

_And turns back to her dance without another glance_

_So caught up in her world_

Her husband has no eye for fine performance, but he will watch her until his attention wanders, leading him into quiet conversation with the swordsman who sits at his side. Lord Sun Ce will cast intermittent glances toward his spinning wife, and every once in a while he will catch her gaze with his, chasing the sepia eyes that so often return to the ruler's table.

Then the Little Conqueror will send her a terrific smile, as bright as the jewels glittering around her neck, and Da Qiao will twirl faster, and her silken skirts will turn into ocean waves painted in sunset brushes, each leaf of fabric rolling under her in perfect synchronization.

When the performance has ended, he will tell her how well she dances, and how much he likes to watch her. And Da Qiao will smile a little brighter, as though laughing to herself that, after all these years, her husband still does not know for whom she dances.

_Who am I to be noticed by her eyes?_

_What's so great about me to cause her to see_

_Me watching her in the rain_

The men of Wu do not know that what makes Da Qiao so graceful is her patient, persistent practice, not the steps of an average woman or the frivolous pastime her sister pursues. Da Qiao prefers to dance in the rain—whenever Heaven sends down its tears, she stands on the stones of the garden courtyard and spins through the water, letting her robes and her delicate skin soak through with the power of the storm.

When she moves across the flagstones, her dark hair sagging against her back and her brown eyes closed to the music of her mind, she is even more beautiful than amid the courtiers of her husband's hall. Every spiral of water flying from her fairy feet is more precious than the silk she wears to greet his guests; every touch the rain receives is gentle like a lover's hand. If there were anyone present to see her dancing, her image would be one that never again left the mind, too captivating and seductive wrapped in her soaking silk to ever abandon her audience's fancy.

_Raindrops falling, funny so was I_

_Falling, falling in love_

She has not always danced for the rain alone. Once, there was someone to watch her. Now that someone watches her often, and dances with her in quieter places, where not even the sky can see them.

_Turquoise sky and raindrops clear_

_Nowhere else I'd rather be than here_

_Watching her, seeing her, wanting her_

_My dancer in the rain_

The caravan is preparing to move now, horses and soldiers forming their stiff ranks as they wait for permission to march. Da Qiao is standing beside her sister on the gravel of the road to the west and smiles up at her mounted husband, both hands folded into the patient envelopes of her sleeves. The wind has come up, and it is whispering in her ear like a jealous admirer, sending Sun Ce's hair into his eyes in retribution for the gaze he holds.

"Try not to miss me too much," the Little Conqueror laughs, one hand busy with his unruly ponytail. Da Qiao only smiles, her eyes reminding him—as her lips will not—that she has little to miss, and that her bed has never known his presence, let alone his absence.

Behind them, Xiao Qiao reaches waiting arms up to her husband and he places one hand on her head from his position in the saddle, distracted eyes not so much as catching her hazel stare as he watches his commander instead. Then Sun Ce gives the signal and the horses disappear down the long road ahead, leaving two young women behind, one waving and the other simply wearing her ever-present smile, feeling the disappearing hoof beats in each beat of her heart.

_I searched my mind and found inside_

_That I truly cared and_

_Would never have ever dared_

_To remove my eyes_

"Da Jie!"

The voice is Xiao Qiao's, and in a moment her body has followed it into her sister's private sitting room, filling the darkness that the single candle permits with her excited and sparkling eyes. Da Qiao sets her sewing into her lap, and watches with a smile as her sister settles at her feet, her hands flitting like butterflies across her flowing skirts and through the night air that sifts sweetly around them.

Xiao Qiao leans forward until her nose almost touches her sister's, and there is a secret in her pretty young face, a secret that has dropped her voice to an eager whisper. "Da Jie, I'm going to meet Lu Meng now. Do you want to come? He said Taishi Ci was talking about your dance all day yesterday, and that he'd love to see you…"

Her silk-slippered feet pat the ground in the rhythm of her excitement, like unsteady fingers over the strings of a lute, and Da Qiao has to laugh, hugging the younger girl tight to her chest before she shakes her head.

"You go on," she answers, the curve of her lips just honest enough to keep Xiao Qiao from noticing the mystery lingering in her eyes. "Have a good time, Little Bird."

Like her namesake, Xiao Qiao flies away into the darkened hallway, thoughts of her waiting companion too pressing to let her see the riddle in her sister's face. Da Qiao remains still for a long moment, breathing in the silence of the long summer night, and then she rises from her seat and steps into the corridor herself, guiding her robes with delicate hands. The torches flicker over her face in conflicting shadows, but each change in light and darkness only makes her more alluring, her skin flawless as jade around deep, unwavering eyes.

There is no one to ask her where she is going, heading deeper and deeper into the central chambers. Perhaps her enigmatic smile would keep them silent even if there were.

_Raindrops falling, funny so was I_

_Falling, falling in love_

When she reaches the covered hallway that runs along the back of the palace, she stops and leans against the railing, letting the open air caress her face and the lines of her lithe form in place of the rain that so often seeks to touch her. It is only a moment before arms reach out of the darkness to capture her, and a body slightly taller than she presses her against the wood, the warmth of another's breath taking the place of the wind against her neck.

Da Qiao is smiling—a different smile now than the one that so often decorates her features, her expression growing fuller with the slide of foreign silk across her arms. "Did I keep you waiting long?" she murmurs, and the jealous breeze steals the words from her tongue, leaving her almost speechless. Speechless, but not silent, because she is laughing as two hands trace her form through the silken dress —laughing as she hasn't laughed since the last night like this, and leaning her arms back to wrap around the neck behind her, the only move she can make in that captive embrace.

There is a voice in her ear now, clearer than the voice of the wind and warm like rippling water, sending a shiver down her back as that body presses her tighter against the railing.

"You are breathtaking when you dance."

The starlight is too dim to discern whether it is the compliment that makes her smile, or the line of kisses that comes with it, soft like flower petals on the nape of her neck. But she is laughing either way—laughing, and trying to catch one of her lover's restless hands, desperate to press warm skin to her lips as well.

_Turquoise sky and raindrops clear_

_Nowhere else I'd rather be than here_

_Watching her, seeing her, wanting her_

_My dancer in the rain_

Da Qiao turns in the familiar arms, and her gaze follows the lines of the face well-acquainted with her touches, soft like the folds of their silk robes tangling tighter and tighter together in the wind. The starlight is her crown, and the night shadows her accenting jewels, and she has never been more beautiful than she is now, except when she dances in the rain, waiting for these pale hands to find her.

Then she leans forward to press her body against that equally soft chest, her half-lidded eyes and flickering smile offering whatever she has to give, her hands tightening in auburn hair. She invites the warrior closer with her musical voice—a voice that echoes the words she said that first day in the rain, the words she says every time they meet this way, just before they descend into the darkness of the princess of Wu's unbothered quarters.

"Dance with me."

And she will.

_Watching her, seeing her, wanting her_

_My dancer in the rain_


End file.
